


Coming Together

by HonorverseFan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27487816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonorverseFan/pseuds/HonorverseFan
Summary: Two wounded and weary souls have found solace in each other during very trying circumstances. Both bear the scars of their pasts. And those can show up when they least expect it. Yet, together they are more than apart.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Harry Potter
Kudos: 18





	Coming Together

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Many thanks to the people at the Harry/Fleur Discord. Huge thanks go to DavidtheAthenai who inspired and helped beta this piece.   
> Thank you to hannibal1234 for his formatting assistance.   
> A huge thank you also goes out to Abel Lecoq for his amazing Beta work
> 
> Discord: discord.gg/Np2zjAH

Harry watched his girlfriend and lover of many months. They have gone through much, from looking for hidden treasures in trap-riddled ruins to fighting through a war. Even before they got truly together, they have been friends. He owed her much. Fleur’s help has been invaluable so far. The number of people he trusted as much as her could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

He knew she trusted him just as much. It was impossible to go through so much together, standing side by side, and not grow to trust your partner.

Harry knew well he was not the easiest person to get along with, something he knew his friends Hermione and Ron would vehemently deny, but they all knew that sometimes they grated on each other. Fleur too, usually a very poised and collected individual, possessed quite a temper, that could flare up at a moment’s notice.

They had fought a few times. When he had asked Andromeda Tonks for advice, she had assured him that all couples fought from time to time, that it was in the resolution of these conflicts that the true mettle of the relationship showed itself. They had both told each other things in anger only to regret it later. So far, their relationship has stood strong.

Having gone through harrowing battles and witnessed undeniable proof that both were formidable indeed with their wand, Harry knew neither of them wanted to escalate their arguments into violence, having had enough of that.

So far, Harry also knew, Fleur seemed curiously detached from her heritage, though Harry definitely knew of it. He could understand it quite well. Much like him Fleur yearned for recognition she would earn of her own merits, not with her name, nor by just being a Veela. Fleur cultivated her own set of impressive talents and knowledge, not really relying on her Veela magic.

All that flew through Harry’s head as he observed his lover pacing around, having just gone through a round of arguments. This time the squabbling grew more heated than usual with Fleur frowning fiercely, refusing to raise her voice, she almost hissed at him.

“You stubborn, pig-’eaded fool!” she whispered angrily at him while pacing around with folded arms. “You are impossible, ‘Arry.”

This quarrel has been going on for some time now, the sun was getting close to the horizon and the shadows of the trees surrounding their cottage lengthened.

Harry scoffed in answer to that accusation, having heard it many times already, “You always say that.” By now, to be perfectly honest, he had already forgotten what started this particular argument. He had the sneaking suspicion that the same was true for his lovely partner.

Judging by the growl escaping his girlfriend, the answer he chose was not the most fortunate one. “You aren’t even listening to me anymore!” she exclaimed and turned away from him.

It was a shiver that went through her back that drew Harry’s attention. This was very much unlike the Fleur he knew. It seemed she had gathered her thoughts and turned to face him, at least that was what Harry thought at first.

He was therefore quite surprised to notice a shimmer around her hands, as if around hot air. Then her eyes drew him in, suddenly gaining a predatory glint he had not seen yet. Her face seemed to change too, her lovely features turning sharper than any human being had a right to have. Soft looking silvery feathers were now sprouting on her bare shoulders he so loved to kiss. With a loud screech Fleur lurched forward and Harry found his vision obscured by a pair of wings glinting in the rays of the setting sun hitting each gleaming feather, creating a myriad of tiny reflections. Yet it were the sharp talons getting ready to attack that kept Harry’s attention.

“Fleur?” he asked, unsure and bewildered. Although he would not admit it later, his voice trembled just a tiny bit.

Harry’s tone seemed to have gone through to Fleur, as she flinched, realizing the state of both her mind and body. She then shocked Harry by withdrawing into herself, turning on her heel and fleeing. Such an action was so very unlike the Fleur he had grown to know.

Her silvery wings quickly vanished and Fleur once again was the ethereal silver-haired witch that everybody knew.

Having been together for a long enough time and having gone through enough arguments, Harry realized his girlfriend was in true distress and leaving her alone now would be a mistake.

With long, decisive strides he quickly caught up to her near one of the linden trees and in the shade, hearing the crickets chirping, unaware of the drama unfolding, he gathered the shaking lovely witch into his arms. She melted into his embrace as she always did. Even when they argued, some things were an immutable truth. Their embraces, private and intimate moments that they were, were immensely treasured by both of them.

“What’s wrong, my flower?” Harry whispered into her ear while rubbing her back. “What is the matter?”

“Don’t touch me now, ‘Arry.” Fleur whispered, hiding her face, “I was ‘ideous.”

To this Harry had to chuckle. Normally Fleur immensely enjoyed feeling the rumbles of Harry’s laughter while he pressed her to his chest, but this was not a normal time.

“Do not laugh at me, ‘Arry,” she whimpered while her shoulders shook.

“I don’t think you could ever be hideous in my eyes, ma chérie,” Harry murmured and kissed the crown of her head, luxuriating in the feeling of her hair. “Now tell me, love, what is it that bothers you? You know you can tell me anything.”

Fleur deeply sighed, trying to draw in the scent of her lover, who had stood beside her and more often than not been a rock in a storm for her. It was often his scent that kept the nightmares at bay and now she clung to him.

Harry sighed and held his love, both of them sitting down in the shade, listening to the rustling of leaves in the wind and to the burbling of the nearby stream.  
They remained quiet, immersed in the sounds around them, entwined under the linden tree and watching as the shadows lengthened. They enjoyed the simple pleasure of being close to the person they loved.

As the sun set and the din around them changed, Fleur sighed and burrowed deeper into Harry’s embrace.

Harry had his head put on top of hers and simply basked in the heat that emanated from her, but he also knew that this was far from over. With a sigh, he spoke up, “Do you want to talk now, Fleur?”

Upon hearing this, she slowly nodded and leant away from him so she could look into his eyes.

“Non, I don’t, ‘Arry. But… we have to talk,” she whispered with an intent look in her sapphire blue eyes. “It is difficult, but we need it.”

“You can take your time, love,” Harry assured her, touching his forehead to hers.

“Non, I… We need to talk,” Fleur heaved a deep sigh after that sentence.

“You know I come from a line of Veela, oui?”

Harry merely nodded at that obvious question, giving her space to further gather her thoughts.

“My wand contains a hair from my grand-mère. Like her and like my maman, I am a Veela.” Fleur started quietly, yet gaining strength as she went on. “We… We try to fit in with the wizarding world, looking as you know us. Yet we ‘ave our… other form, as you saw today. The change… feelings, strong feelings bring it forth.”

Upon another sigh from Fleur, Harry tightened his embrace and replied, “I know, I looked up Veela after learning about you.” Here, Harry smiled and continued, “It was a mess of contradictory sources, but with Hermione’s help we got through it. I also remember seeing the transformation at the Quidditch World Cup all those years ago.”

“You saw that then? Oui, this form… can be unsightly.” Fleur seemed to hesitate here.

Harry merely shrugged in response to that, but thought better of it and so put his thoughts into words, “They were, hm, surprising, sure. They looked different.”

“Oui, different,” Fleur whispered with a nod. “Of the feelings, anger is the typical trigger. I… I have only transformed in anger so far.” Here, Fleur’s voice seemed to be hoarse. “The feeling, the trigger, it is more… visceral after the change. More intense.”

Harry squeezed her shoulder, well aware of how difficult, yet also important, this talk was to his girlfriend.

“Last year, during the war, the change… it was only for enemies.” Fleur took a shuddering breath. “I burned enemies, scorched their bodies. My talons tore up their faces, tore out their throats.” Here, Fleur halted for a moment.

“I have killed men in my anger, ‘Arry. But they were… monsters, enemies.” 

Here Fleur looked down, her cheeks going pale.

“Today, I nearly turned my talons against you, ‘Arry. I, I normally keep it under control.” A heaving breath followed this declaration

Here, Harry grasped Fleur’s hand and brought it to his lips. He lingered in the kiss, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. He had to stop however to reply. “But you stopped, Fleur. You didn’t attack me.”

Fleur went nearly slack in his arms and let out a sob. “I nearly added your blood to what I already spilled with these ‘ands, ‘Arry.” This came out as mere whisper. “My ‘and was going for your throat.”

Further sobs shook Fleur at this moment, so Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead and rubbed circles on her back.

“I, my ‘ands are stained by blood. By staying with me, you will get stained too, my love.”

“Shh, Fleur, shh. I am sorry I made you so angry. It is my fault, not yours.” Harry murmured. “And I’m glad I could see this side of you too.”

“Why?” the question seemed to fly from beyond Fleur’s lips. “Why would you be glad to see that…”

“I love you, my flower.” This heartfelt confession never failed to send a thrilling wave of heat through her. “I love all of you. Now I simply know more of you. I have more of you to love.”

“Why, ‘Arry? Why that ‘ideous form?” Fleur’s sobs seemed to subside as she asked her question.

Harry smiled his best grin and replied, “I told you. You can never be hideous in my eyes. Do you really think you are staining me with blood, Fleur?”

At this, she could only nod. Seeing this, Harry got a faraway look to his eyes, watching the horizon, maybe some phantoms beyond.

“Killing in anger… That I know well, too well even. I am good at it. Tell me, flower, can you bear with being caressed by this bloodstained hand?” Harry’s tone seemed to be hesitant, distant even as he caressed her cheek.

She frowned as she leaned into the caress, then took him by his wrist and brought his hand, palm up to her lips. Harry, feeling the delicate kiss, only smiled, his eyes holding a sorrowful look.

“Even more people died by my wand, flower, when we weren’t fighting together, I slew scores of Tom’s followers. Curses of all kinds, blasting them apart. Their blood spraying on my face. I bisected them with simple cutting curses, saw their guts spill out, smelled their fluids, I froze them and shattered them, I burned them to death too, that smell lingered in my nose for days.” Throughout this horrifying recitation, Harry’s voice remained steady.

“Non, ‘Arry, you were forced into that war, I know you. You defend people, even when you kill, you kill in defense.” Fleur’s voice rose with her vehemence.

Finally, Harry’s gaze returned from miles away and he looked down at his lover. To Fleur it seemed he was contemplating something, his eyes turning to and fro.

“I have also been keeping a secret from you, my lovely flower.” Harry turned his gaze to her eyes as he spoke.

Fleur nodded, “Whenever you are ready to tell me, it’s fine. Or don’t say anything, ‘Arry.”

“No,” Harry uttered after a thought, “on this night of sharing, it is a good time to tell you. Do you remember my godfather?”

“Sirius Black? Oui.”

“He was an animagus, much like my father.”

Even birds seemed to stop their song, now only the leaves rustling and the spring gently bubbling accompanied this discussion as the moon shone from above.

“Both of them? It is a rare skill?” admitted Fleur, quite impressed.

“That it is. I didn’t have much of them, of any of my family. I wanted to honour them both. So I studied the process and followed in their footsteps. Fate has a sense of irony.” Harry followed his statement with a bitter chuckle.

“What do you mean, ‘Arry?” Fleur breathed out.

“My father was a great stag while my godfather was a great big dog. Many people confused his form for that of a spectral hound, a grim. And my form, well, it is much closer to my godfather than my own father.”

“What is it, ‘Arry?”

“Stand back please, flower. I will need more space for this.”

Fleur nodded and hesitantly, slowly she disentagled herself from Harry’s arms and stepped back. Harry remained sitting and watched her as she stepped even further back with a wary gaze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed out, visibly focusing. His form seemed to blur and Fleur felt a shiver going down her spine. This magic felt different, not the sickening feeling of the darkest arts, yet the feeling was eerie. Then the change was upon Harry, his body changing, his limbs growing thinner while his head lengthened.

What sat in front of Fleur resembled a white hound, yet it obviously wasn’t. It’s coat of hair seemed short and it looked to be partly transparent, the hindquarters looked both gaunt yet built for speed, the limbs thin and agile, ending in sharp claws. The chest looked well muscled, the neck was slightly longer than usual and on the neck sat a head resembling a skull, prolonged, mouth filled with dangerous-looking teeth. The snout was red as were the unusually long ears. And the eyes, watching her with human intelligence, glowed ominously.

Fleur overcame her shock and approached Harry in this new, unknown form. She carefully examined him, walking around him, observing him from all sides. Harry seemed to humor her and stayed still. Finally, Fleur stood in front of him again and nodded. As startling as the first change was, the reverse went quickly and once again she beheld her lover’s familiar form.

“That is an… unusual form, ‘Arry, what is it?”

With a small smile, he replied, “While my godfather’s form resembled a spectral dog, this is real. For whatever reason, I became a spectral dog, a known killer of wizards and witches. Old Trelawney’s reaction would have been interesting, since I became an omen of death. It has many names, most call it a hell-hound, the Welsh call it Cŵn Annwn. I wonder if anything had an influence on my form… the prophecy, dad’s cloak, I don’t know.” This pronouncement was accompanied with a shrug.

“According to old stories, the hounds should hunt traitors and oath-breakers. It is fitting, in a way.”

“‘Arry, what do you mean by that?”

“Like you used your talons, I also went on a hunt. Fenrir Greyback.” At the mere mention of that name, Harry’s features darkened.

“Wasn’t he…” Fleur started to ask, only to be interrupted by Harry’s nod.

“Yes, he was the monster who targeted that orphanage. He had a lot of young werewolves on his conscience. And he ended up turning many over to Tom too. Yet, even with his fierce reputation, he tried to run, the fool.” In Harry’s eyes there seemed to be a phantom of the earlier glow. “He stopped being an enemy, he became prey.” Harry’s smile was decidedly satisfied. “I caught him after a day of chasing him, knocked him to the ground, broke his arm and a few ribs.” Here, as he was telling the part, Harry’s smile disappeared, leaving his expression blank.

“I well remember the taste of his blood on my tongue. The feeble resistance of his windpipe as my jaws found his throat. In my dreams, I return to that chase, Fleur.”

Harry now looked somewhat disgusted as Fleur rushed to him.

“Every time we kiss, you…”

Whatever Harry was saying would go forever unfinished as his mouth was firmly sealed by a ferocious kiss by the silver-haired owner of his heart. The kiss went on for a time, her hands getting entangled in his hair, while he held her hips. But, magical they may be, air was a necessity still, so they, regretfully, had to stop.

“Now you see, Fleur. You cannot taint what is already bloody. If you can bear with me, I will gladly stay with you, come what may.”

And here, to Fleur’s amazement, Harry blushed with such an intensity that Fleur had to strain her memory to remember the last time she had seen such.

“And besides, you looked great. Your wings were majestic and your plumage looked amazing.” Harry looked down at that admission. “I wanted to touch you.” he whispered the last part.

“What?” Fleur’s surprise couldn’t be more apparent.

“Could you…” Harry seemed to hesitate, “Can you change, can you control it?”

Fleur looked incredulous at the question, so Harry hurried to continue, “Could you show me? Without going for my throat this time, please?”

Fleur lightly swatted him in response, but didn’t let go of him. 

“Please, flower. We are here, alone. I would like to get to know you properly.”

At this, Fleur released a sigh and squared her shoulders. She resolutely stepped away from Harry and closed her eyes in focus.

This time, Harry could concentrate on the change as it happened. His lover’s hair, resembling spun moonlight, changed into resplendent plumage as silvery feathers seemed to sprout on her arms and shoulders. Her immaculate nails lengthened and became sharp talons and finally, great wings appeared, neatly folded back.

Harry could only stare in wonder at this vision. In the magical lunar light, what appeared in front of him was far from the fearsome form he observed not so long ago. Seeming to shimmer in the moonlight, what stood before him was a vision of beauty, different, yet still unmistakably Fleur. And when he looked into her eyes, he spotted a hint of uncertainty.

“You are so beautiful, my flower.” he breathed out reverently and pointed at her right hand. “May I?”

In answer to this, she raised her right hand, which was sporting sharp, curved claws now. Harry moved to grasp it. It was the same hand with which she nearly tried to eviscerate him.

“You amaze me, you are so lovely… I don’t have the words,” and abandoning words, Harry proceeded to gently kiss the talon, while caressing Fleur’s feathered arm. She clearly had not expected his reaction and the cutest surprised squawk escaped her. Harry’s ministrations moved on, gently caressing her feathers, peppering her arm with light kisses. When he reached her neck, without hesitation, he landed a kiss on her beak, even winking quickly at her surprise.

“You are so elegant now, my love.” he whispered into her ear as he caressed her other talon now. “Can I touch your wings? Please?” Though she expected to see mischief based on the tone of his voice, his green eyes showed only tenderness, love.

With utmost care, Harry examined her wings, marvelling at the sharp looking yet incredibly soft feathers there, gently touching each wing. Finally, he stepped in front of Fleur again and held her gaze. Taking her taloned hand in his, Harry whispered, “Please, dance with me my love. With the moon as our witness, with the rustle of leaves as our music, dance with me.”

Were anyone to overcome the protective enchantments around the area that night, they would have witnessed an usual sight. In clear moonlight there were two figures holding each other, a gleaming silver angel held in the arms of a young man with old eyes. They swayed to an unheard melody, dancing steps unknown to man, both silent, eerie.

Neither spoke, lost in each other’s gaze, twirling between the trees. Ghostly in their grace and silence, this pair continued gliding around until, finally, they stopped under the crown of an ancient oak. The young man released the angel from his embrace, bowing deeply and leading her to the tree trunk.

There, both figures again embraced, the man’s face going to the angel’s neck as her arms encircled him. For the first time either of them made a sound when the man softly sighed and the angel proceeded to close her wings around him too. Safely ensconced this way, should anyone be able to see the man’s face, they would be witness to an expression of such contentment that any observer would wonder whether they were not dreaming. For what living man could bear such an expression?

Yet there were no observers that night and Harry and Fleur rested undisturbed, neither by mortals nor nightmares.


End file.
